The project is the brainchild of Uncivilized World’s founder, Arnaud Frisch, who describes his vision this way: “We want to provoke people who like these artists to read something about the dangers of savage globalization and have a debate about it.” Another World Is Possible has a secondary goal as well. Proceeds from sales go to ATTAC, the French-founded but now internationally organized Association pour la Taxation des Transactions pour l’Aide aux Citoyens (Association for the Taxation of Financial Transactions for the Aid of Citizens), which seeks to implement Nobel Prize-winning American economist James Tobin’s ideas of a tax on currency speculation in order to fund efforts such as combating global warming, poverty, and disease. (In a related move over a year ago, French president Jacques Chirac, speaking at the UN General Assembly, proposed an international tax on airline tickets, among other things, that would fund anti-AIDS, -tuberculosis, and -pollution initiatives. A couple of months ago, the French government acted on this proposal independently and announced that the tax would come into force in France on July 1, 2006.)
Listen to Manu Chao, Tonino Carotone “La trampa”
Truthfully, I have great difficulty believing that the activists whose words are included here, such as Chomsky and Arundhati Roy, aren’t already familiar to at least a good part (if not the overwhelming majority) of Another World’s anticipated audience: the kind of scenesters who would seek out recordings by Mali’s Salif Keita or Nigeria’s Femi Kuti (son of one of the twentieth century’s most influential, and socially committed, musicians, Fela Kuti), who are two of nearly 20 solo artists and groups rounded up for this project. But no matter: the music is, for the most part, still fabulous, gleaned from musicians as far-flung as France (bands No One Is Innocent and Orchestre National de Barbès), Jamaica (The Skatalites), Ivory Coast (Tiken Jah Fakoly), and the United States (Moby).
We learn the barest outlines of who the essayists are, for instance. Again, I find it hard to believe that anyone who’d pick up this package wouldn’t already know who Noam Chomsky is; even so, there’s a pithy bio (“Institute Professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology”) just in case. So why not provide the same for the musical talents assembled for this project, especially since many of them (Orchestre National de Barbès or Tonino Carotone, for example) are most likely to be far less easily recognizable than, say, Arundhati Roy or Subcomandante Marcos, even to true world-music fans?
Listen to Emir Kusturica, The no smoking orchestra “Lost in the supermarket”
One of the most fascinating contributions is undoubtedly Arundhati Roy’s; it’s a meditation of sorts upon the role of the artist in society, in which she addresses the artificial divide that others force upon her as a “writer-activist,” as though her fiction is not as political as her overtly political essays. (After her debut novel, The God of Small Things, topped bestseller lists around the globe, Roy wrote on such important topics as India’s nuclear activity, environmentally and socially catastrophic big-dam projects across the world, and the alarming trend of privatization and corporatization of basic public utilities like water and electricity.) That meshing of roles comes to the fore more explicitly in the musical portion of Another World Is Possible. The one commonality between these disparate artists is that they all weave together art and social activism: none of these musicians could ever be thought of as mere “entertainers.” Either their music is often overtly political, as with the UK’s Asian Dub Foundation (ADF) or Algeria’s Idir, or they are active as leaders within their respective communities. Some go even further: French-born and Spanish-based singer, guitarist, and producer Manu Chao regularly donates royalties to the Zapatistas in Chiapas.
One of Chao’s own most important influences was The Clash, and, unsurprisingly (considering the philosophical spirit of Another World Is Possible), two distinctly different Clash covers find their way onto this album. The first is a version of “Police on My Back” from ADF and France’s Zebda. While the Clash sang about being disaffected English youth in the UK, the song receives an extra tweak here about the second-generation immigrant experience in Europe: the members of ADF come from Britain’s South Asian population; Zebda, from France’s Algerian community. Given the distrust and suspicion that people who look like ADF and Zebda face after September 11, the London train bombings, and, most recently, the Paris riots, the bitter lyrics of “Police on My Back” find renewed relevance, and the groups’ addition of galloping tablas give the song an even more urgent undertone. Similarly, Sarajevo-born filmmaker-cum-musician Emir Kusturica and the No Smoking Orchestra uncover new strata of ironic commentary in The Clash’s “Lost in the Supermarket,” which they give a thoroughly fresh instrumental spin: a raucous Balkan brass band meets reggae’s one-drop beat, with the words delivered in an entirely charming, fractured, and heavily accented English, whose use hints at yet another layer of commentary about globalization and its corresponding lingua franca.
Listen to Underground Resistance “The strangler”
The music portion of Another World Is Possible gradually evolves from a set of block-rocking, hip-twitching dance tunes into moody and reflective electronica. One of the most wonderful tracks is hidden in this second shift: the elegiac, country-tinged “Wives of Farmers” from the Modesto, California, band Grandaddy. This group knows of what they speak: Modesto lies in the heart of the agricultural San Joaquin Valley, and there’s no false admiration or condescension in lyrics like:
Wives of farmers care about the way their husbands feel
Wives of farmers know the power of a home cooked meal
Wives of farmers grow pretty flowers out in the yard
Wives of farmers know that life is sometimes hard.
And while Granddaddy’s paean to a nearly lost way of life in America certainly isn’t any kind of direct commentary on globalization, it does offer a corrective to the “norm” of Northern/Western relentlessly commercial, blinged-out, ever increasingly globalized pop culture. And, in the end, that’s what Another World Is Possible does best. While it doesn’t offer much in the way of answers, it provides a range of other voices: songs and stories firmly rooted in their respective cultural grounds—voices often lost in the mechanized din of globalization.